


[Insert Star Wars Pun Here]

by beersforqueers



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, I am procrastinating, M/M, this is fucking ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:04:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beersforqueers/pseuds/beersforqueers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A frankly ridiculous ficlet set in a Star Wars AU in which Sokka and Zuko are pilots with a dramatic romantic history and they fuck up an escape plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[Insert Star Wars Pun Here]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dickpuncher420](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickpuncher420/gifts).



> Ok, I KNOW that I need to finish Dodge and Burn. I know. But the thing is that [interextrovert](http://archiveofourown.org/users/interextrovert) posted this prompt-ish thing on [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/), and I couldn’t get it out of my head, and so now we’ve found out what happens literally the day after I get a [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/), because I have no self control. You’re welcome, world. Here’s some (comparatively) short trash fic.

“You’re assigning me to _him_?” Sokka burst into Katara’s meeting with exactly the type of melodrama she usually associated with the announcement of an incoming bombing raid. Fortunately, she knew exactly what this was about.

“Are you planning on being insubordinate, Sokka?” she barely raised her gaze from the map she was annotating, a decision she knew would irritate Sokka to no end.

“Yes!” he snapped, most likely to get her attention. So help her, she wished that his most predictable tactics didn’t work, but he was her brother, and so those were in his playbook for a reason. She looked up at him finally, waving away her counselors.

“You work well together,” she said evenly.

“Like hell we do!” Sokka actually _stamped his foot_ like the pre-pubescent teenage girl she knew him to actually be on the inside. She restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

“’Like hell we do’…?” she prompted.

“Like hell we do, _General_ ,” Sokka amended after a beat, indignation leaking out of him by intervals.

“Exactly. General,” she lowered her eyes back to her maps of the base now that there was no longer any imminent danger of a Sokka implosion. “And if I say you work well together and that I expect you to continue to do so, you will. Is that understood?”

Sokka, for all his incredible lack-of-poise, straightened his spine at that. He was their best pilot for a reason, and one of those reasons had to be that he could take orders when necessary. And if she said that he was going to work with “him”, then _dammit_ , he was going to work with him.

“Punch the door shut on your way out, Sokka,” she called, and was only slightly satisfied to hear it slam.

 

***

“This was a bad idea,” Zuko said. He was standing face to face with Sokka across an expanse of metal bridge in the deep underbelly of the base. The bridge had no railings. _Why do they never have railings?_

“Yeah, I know,” Sokka huffed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have to break you out of here, you dumb fuck.”

Zuko winced. Ok, so, yeah, fair point, he hadn’t handled things particularly well, but _still_.

“So much anger I sense in you,” he muttered, and he didn’t even need to see Sokka to know to duck. The helmet flew over his head and skittered across the floor behind him until it fetched up against the far wall. “Don’t break the stormtrooper helmet!” he managed to tear his eyes away from the heaving chest of his ex-lover long enough to retrieve the offending article, “You’re gonna need that to get me the hell out of here.”

“Well if you weren’t the prick asshole who got himself _captured in the first place_ —“

“I wasn’t trying to!” Zuko stalked over to him and slapped the helmet back into his hands. “We can’t all the best pilot in the galaxy, Sokka!”

“You were the second best for a reason,” Sokka thunked the helmet back onto his head a little too vehemently, and Zuko really hoped it hurt, then immediately felt guilty for thinking it.

“Let’s _not_ have this fight and just say we did,” he grabbed Sokka by the armored elbow and wheeled around to drag him down the bridge. Predictably, he lost his balance—“Because flat ground is way harder to navigate than space, Sokka, stop laughing at me!”—and was almost over the decided lack-of-railing before Sokka caught him.

They stayed suspended like that for a couple of seconds, and Zuko had the wonderful dizzying feeling of Sokka’s mouth on his and those stupid three words they always refused to say against his lips, and then the horrifying dizzying feeling of plummeting backwards with Sokka screaming after him….

 _Why the_ **fuck** _do they not install railings?_

“Why the fuck do they never install railings?” Sokka griped, but he hauled Zuko up and if his cheeks were sort of pink like they’d been remembering too? Well, Zuko wasn’t about to say anything about it. He had a little bit more self-preservation instinct than that. Hard emphasis on the “little bit”.

His lack of self-preservation was what had gotten them into that mess in the first place, he reminded himself.

They were just reaching the end of the bridge when the explosions started.

“Did _you_ set the charges?” Sokka asked Zuko wildly.

“Where the fuck would I have gotten charges from?” Zuko asked. “I’m a prisoner!”

“Oh shit,” Sokka looked up to where real stormtroopers were pouring out onto the walkways above them. “I may have lost the charges upstairs.”

“And remote detonated them? Where did you put the detonator?” Zuko demanded.

“In my helmet. That I threw.”

“Well at least the fleet is here,” Zuko said weakly, staring up through the newly created hole in the ceiling to where X-wings were zipping back and forth across the sky.

“Yeah, that’s the last resort plan if the charges went off,” Sokka groaned. “Katara is going to kill me.”

 

***

“I thought you had died,” Sokka glared extra hard just to save himself from wincing as the nurse dabbed at his burns.

“Yeah, like five years ago,” Zuko glared right back. “And have been avoiding me ever since.”

“What you did was stupid.”

“And saved your ungrateful life, you asshole.”

 _Fair point made less fair by sheer animal magnetism_ , Sokka decided. _-10 points for Zuko._

“I probably would have made it out anyway, you didn’t have to be all heroic and self-sacrificing,” Sokka lied from between his teeth.

Thankfully he was spared whatever annoyingly reasonable drivel was about to come out of Zuko’s mouth, because Toph chose that moment to join them.

She looked them up and down in that perfunctory and entirely unnecessary way she always did just to remind them she couldn’t, and then started laughing.

“I’ll go let Katara know the wedding is back on,” she announced, turning on her heel and still chortling. “She’ll be thrilled—she can finally wear that dress that makes her tits look great.” The door snapped shut behind her.

“I hate her,” they both chorused in unison, then avoided each other’s eyes for the rest of the med evaluation.

 

***

“Ok, whatever, you were right, stop being a dick already,” Sokka handed the wrench to Zuko and pretended not to notice him immediately roll out from under the fighter. He didn’t have any compunction whatsoever with noticing (and laughing hysterically) when he sat up too fast and hit his head on the wing.

“You lying piece of shit,” Zuko said, his voice full of wonder. “How long have you held onto that?”

“Like, the last two years,” Sokka admitted, turning another wrench over in his hands. “Are you gonna fix that, or what? I don’t wanna be sitting in this hangar bay all night while you remember how to interact with me like a normal human being.”

“I am being perfectly normal,” Zuko said primly, and snatched the other wrench out of his hand. His voice was muffled from where it issued out from under the fighter, and Sokka used that as his own excuse for not answering the next question in a timely manner. “So if you’re not pissed off anymore, what does that mean?”

Sokka struggled internally for a moment before making any kind of decision. Even then, it wasn’t really a decision so much as tossing the blaster back into Zuko’s lap. “I don’t think we should have this conversation when your entire upper body is underneath a giant hunk of broken metal.”

Zuko rolled back out from under it and glared at him balefully. “You’re the one who told me to fix it faster.”

“Yeah, whatever, I changed my mind. It happens,” Sokka crossed his arms.

“You don’t say,” Zuko rolled his eyes in that way that only Zuko was capable of.

This was spiraling out of his control. He swore he’d had a plan at some point. But also he had totally forgotten that plan the second he’d seen Zuko shirtless with engine grease on the side of his nose.

“Shut up, you’re stupid,” he said, and dove.

He’d misjudged the roll-y thing a little, and was not anticipating being rocket-propelled halfway across the hangar. He had (correctly) anticipated Zuko kissing him back (with enthusiasm). So at least one thing was working out.

“And how long have you been holding onto _that_?” Zuko thumped his head back against the roller, regarding Sokka with an expression somewhere between disapproving and deeply amused.

“Since you yelled at me about the helmet,” Sokka said, nuzzling at Zuko’s neck to avoid looking him in the eye. “Why do you think I avoided you for five years? I was never gonna be able to stay mad at you once you opened your fucking mouth and started being _charming_.”

“Me yelling at you is charming?” Zuko narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

“You’re just so awkward about it,” Sokka laughed against his collarbone.

“I am NOT!” Zuko protested, but Sokka was licking his neck, so he had the feeling he wasn’t going to try to fight this for that much longer.

“Just give up already,” Sokka leaned in and brushed his lips over Zuko’s. “We have five years’ worth of sex to make up for.”

“And a wedding to plan!” came Toph’s voice out of the maintenance shaft.

“I really hate her,” they both groaned, and pretended to have some semblance of dignity when all they got in return was disembodied cackling.

**Author's Note:**

> In case ALL of the aforementioned hyperlinks/me trying to broadcast it to the world didn't get to you yet, I now have a [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/). COME TELL ME TO WRITE THINGS SO THAT I CAN PROCRASTINATE. PLEASE.


End file.
